Yet the schism is really much more fundamental. The African Anglicans and their allies see in Christianity a confessing faith and a universally - and exclusively - redeeming God, whose eternal status is imbued with dogmas and incontrovertible meanings of scripture. In Western secular cultures, this unction seems ever more out of place. The big story of Gafcon is the lengths to which African bishops were willing to go in affirming this orthodox version of Christianity.

The press corps seemed to find all of this a little dull or antiquarian. Reporters strained to excavate the gay angle, an enterprise that took on comedic proportions as the week progressed. Serendipitously, Jerusalem's Gay Pride parade was to be held on Thursday, while Gafcon pilgrims were "workshopping" in the hotel. On learning this, the press room came alive. The organisers, too, were anxious and security around the hotel was doubled. But no disturbance came to pass.

The rather subdued parade never came near the hotel. At its starting line in Independence Park, the Gafcon press pool searched fruitlessly for Christian pilgrims in the crowd. There was one: an English reverend wearing, with self-aware irony, a bright pink shirt. The BBC's Robert Pigott made a beeline for him, and finagled an interview with this lonely Anglican. The next day, one could find a story headlined "Anglican rebels clash with gay march" on the Beeb's website.

Meanwhile, The Guardian's Riazat Butt seemed more interested in British interlocutors at Gafcon than in the event's African movers and shakers - and only then to subject them to a line of questioning that was combative, unilluminating and at times completely out of line. After Michael Nazir-Ali, Bishop of Rochester, released a modest statement citing reasons of personal "conscience" for not attending the Lambeth Conference, Ms Butt wondered aloud if this was not an act of "religious snobbery". She asked: "Are you saying they [bishops who are attending] have fewer principles than you?"